


Through Bushes And Briars

by livtontea



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AU - No Commission, Author Projects A Lot, But still an asshole, Everyone Is Gay, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I dont want to tag every single gender/sexuality, Luther Being Less of an Asshole, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Transgender Diego Hargreeves, Young Five Hargreeves, let five say fuck, no beta we die like ben, so lets just say everybody is LGBT+
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-06-09 15:52:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livtontea/pseuds/livtontea
Summary: Without the Commission screwing with Five, he manages to use his genius to get back to his family much earlier than he could have. The adult Hargreeves now have a traumatized teenager to care for. All together they make almost two functioning grown-ups, so it should be easy, right?Ahaha, no.And they need to stop the apocalypse while they're at it. Great.





	1. Five

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a Shakespeare reference. If you don't know, [here's](https://poets.org/poem/midsummer-nights-dream-act-ii-scene-i-over-hill-over-dale) the excerpt.
> 
> The "no beta we die like ben" tag is something I saw on another fic and found absolutely hilarious so I'm using it here. Cheers to whoever came up with it, because it wasn't me.
> 
> I wrote the first couple chapters on my phone with no access to the internet, soo... 
> 
> ...Enjoy the digital manifestation of my blood sweat and tears.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five is doing his best, and Dolores is a great (girl)friend. Cockroaches are nasty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dolores is like, a little bit of a bitch, but we love her and she means well. She's great, Five is lucky to have her. I love Dolores.

_"I want to time travel."_

_"No."_

_"But I'm ready! I've been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said. See?"_

_"A spatial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice. The other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water, and reappearing as an acorn."_

_"Well I don't get it."_

+

Five watches the street in awe. It's changed, which proves it. He _can_ time travel. He clenches his fists and flings himself forward again.

Another change of scenery. It's winter now, heavy lumps of snow decorating the sidewalk.

 _Again_ , he thinks. _One more time._ He pushes.

+

He pops back into existence with a blue flash and a muffled clap of sound. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open as he sees what's around him.

There's nothing. It's all gone. All that's left is ruins and rubble and fire and dust.

"What…" Five says. It's hard to breathe. The ash and smoke are forcing themselves down his throat, into his lungs.

Five turns around and runs back to where he left from minutes ago. He scrambles to a stop in front of the Academy.

What's left of the Academy.

There's nothing but the front doorway and stone pillars attached to nothing. Five turns around, his legs like jelly under him.

"Vanya!" he calls out. "Ben!"

Nobody answers. There's nothing but the crackling of the flames and the sound of Five's own heartbeat in his ears.

"Dad! Anyone!"

It's quiet. Five clenches his fists and tries to pull the blue inside of him out to the surface. It leaks out into the air and condenses into a familiar portal. He pushes against it, but instead of letting him through it acts like a gelatinous wall, stopping him.

"No." Five's voice is full of disbelief and tinted with fear.

He tries again. Same result. "Come on," he grits out. "Come on!"

His attempt at escape fizzles out and dissipates into the air. Five drops his hands to his sides in defeat.

It's all hopeless, he realizes. It's all gone. He sinks down to his knees and allows the bright heat of the fire to brush against his face, leaving his eyes wet and stinging.

"Shit," whispers the boy who ran too far, and ended up in the middle of nowhere.

+

A day later, Five finds them. He was wandering around, hungry after trying to use his power again.

And he hasn't eaten since yesterday. Right.

He was hungry, and wandering the ruins in search of food, and possibly shelter, when he stumbled up to where the Icarus used to be.

The theatre too has been reduced to ash and rubble. But that's not what catches his eye.

What piques his interest-- although it's debatable whether "interest" is the right word-- are the bodies.

Four bodies sprawled out on the ground, half covered by rubble and debris. Four adult bodies, each one with dirt on their clothing and faces.

One body with a hand raised and an object clutched in its hand. Five slowly walks up to it and gently pries open the cold fingers.

A glass eye is left in his palm. Five pockets it and wipes his hands on his shorts.

One body with long and curly dyed-blonde hair. The makeup on its face is expertly done, Five thinks. Although it's not like he knows anything about makeup.

One body dressed in a black turtleneck and a weird leather harness. In the harness are…

Knives. Two sharp, shining knives. Five represses a shudder, but brushes it off as coincidental. It has to be.

One body wearing a short-sleeved shirt. One body with its left wrist turned upwards and visible.

One body that makes Five jerk himself backward and flail his arms as to not lose his balance. One body with a black and red umbrella tattoo that matches Five's own imprinted on its wrist.

Four bodies of people he used to know laying in the dirt.

Five turns around and runs from the remains of the Icarus Theatre as fast as his legs can take him.

+

He never really thinks about how two bodies that should have been there with the other four were missing that day.

+

The day Five meets Dolores is later. Much later. He's been surviving for about two months now, living off what bits of packaged food he can find and rainwater he collects.

His clothing is ripped and dirtied in every way possible, so it's about time to find something else to wear.

Five decides to try and find a store. It makes sense, he's seen buildings that were only half obliterated. There has to be at least one store that he can scavenge some clothing from, right?

Right.

He clambers over debris with a crisp kind of careful, toting the wagon he found a week ago behind him. It's bent a bit, and the wheels don't turn as smoothly as they probably should, but hey. He's not going to complain about finding something usable.

Not in the fucking apocalypse. He decided to call it that some time after he figured out he was the only one alive.

When he makes it to the should-be entrance of the store, he leaves the "cart" outside and ventures in.

He was right. There's clothing here. He even finds a backpack, which is like finding a pot of goddamn gold at the end of a really dirty rainbow. He immediately changes into the cleaner clothes, transferring the glass eye into a whole pocket, and dumps the worn uniform on the floor along with the old shoes. Other clothing he finds he shoves into the pack and then starts moving towards the exit.

On his way there he spots a collapsed shelf with notebooks and writing supplies spilling out onto the floor.

Five immediately speedwalks over to it, and crouches down to examine the stationery. It's amazing. Almost all of the paper is intact.

He ends up grabbing three notebooks, two lined and one gridded, and a sketchbook, even though he's never been one for drawing. He also places two pens, one of them being a purple one whose packaging claims it to last seven years, six pencils, (mechanical and wooden, along with one of those little plastic sharpeners) and yellow and blue highlighters into his bag. Also a box of pencil topper erasers.

Once he's done picking out his writing implements, he stands back up and hefts the backpack over one shoulder. He doesn't make it far before he freezes again.

It's a person. Or rather, an imitation of one. A mannequin.

He squints, mentally arguing with himself whether he should go and pick up the mannequin or not. It's not even a full body. Just the top half.

 _"What good would it be to you?"_ says the logical part of Five. _"It's just extra weight to lug around."_

 _"But it looks so human,"_ whispers the part that's probably responsible for emotions. Five should really figure out how to get rid of those. _"Maybe you could talk to it?"_

"Why would I talk to it?" says Five out loud. "It's a lump of plastic."

_"But wouldn't it make you less lonely? Haven't you wanted to talk to somebody since day one?"_

Five sighs. It's not like he has anything to lose. He picks up the mannequin and tucks it under his arm, then walks out of the store back into the sun.

+

The first couple of days after he puts the mannequin into the wagon are spent in awkward silence. Five keeps berating himself for keeping the mannequin, but for some unknown reason, he can't bring himself to throw it out.

It's only after he wakes up one night from a nightmare that he tries to talk to it.

(He does his best not to think about the bodies. Whenever he does, it ends like this, with him waking up in tears, a scream tearing itself from his throat and a sheen of sweat coating his skin. Losing water.

He needs a distraction.)

"Hey," Five whispers. The mannequin, predictably, doesn't answer.

"I'm… sorry for not talking to you earlier, I guess."

The mannequin's blue eyes stare straight ahead. Five moves so that he's in front of its gaze. "I think you need a name."

Five imagines the mannequin tilting its bald head in confusion. "Yeah. I mean, you're going to be around for some time, right?"

He imagines it saying something like, "I hope so, being alone really is quite bland."

"Ha," he forces a tired laugh. "You got that right. Being alone really sucks."

He can almost see the mannequin smile. This is good for him, right? That's what people who get stranded on islands or things like that do. They personify something and talk to it to keep themselves sane. Five thinks there was a breakfast recording Reginald made them listen to about that.

"You need a name," he repeats. "How about Alice?"

The mannequin stares on.

"No, huh? Well," Five yawns. "I think I'll go back to sleep now. Maybe we can think of a name for you tomorrow."

The next day after eating, he sits down on a flat-ish piece of stone and tries to think of a name for the mannequin.

"Clara? Dianne?"

The mannequin seems annoyed at his mediocre naming skills.

"Well, I don't know. Dolly?"

She rolls her eyes. Five throws his hands up. "I don't know, okay? Just give me a minute."

Five thinks hard about it. Although Dolly is a horrible name, there's some irony in it. She is a mannequin, after all. A life-sized doll.

Suddenly, it hits him. Dolly is a nickname. A common nickname for a common enough name.

"How about Dolores?"

The mannequin, now Dolores, nods. "That sounds perfect."

Five beams.

+

Before Dolores, Five talked to himself. He spoke out loud, and then gave responses to his own thoughts. He stopped when he noticed the part of him that responded was following the script less and less.

Schizophrenia isn't something he can deal with, and he was on the train to that station.

Dolores helps a lot.

+

The first time Five eats a cockroach is also the first time he runs out of food. He hasn't been as careful with his rates of consumption as he should have been, and at one point he woke up and all of his rations were just… gone.

It would have been simple to just go out and find something else, of course. There was a gas station that he knows for a fact is still nearly full of chips and drinks. It's even only about three-quarters destroyed.

The catch is that it's raining.

He knows not to go out scavenging in the rain. It's dangerous, and he's not willing to risk it.

He sets out a dish to collect some rainwater and huddles under an overhang of concrete where he takes out a notebook and starts writing.

The notebooks have gotten more and more filled since time has passed, but he's still far from finding a way home. It's all in the equations, and his aren't fully developed.

Maybe the eye has something to do with it, he thinks. The eye, which he is fidgeting when even as he writes, is a variable. An unknown.

He forces his thoughts back to the complex math in his paper.

Hours later, his stomach is pained with hunger and the rain hasn't let up.

"Goddamnit," mutters Five.

"Don't start sulking," warns Dolores. "If you sulk you're not going to be able to do your math."

Five huffs in annoyance. "I'm hungry, Dolores."

Dolores rolls her eyes. "I'm well aware."

Five groans. He tries to concentrate on the math in front of him, but it's no use. The hunger is clawing at the walls of his stomach, trying to make its way up to his throat.

There's a flash of movement in Five's peripheral vision.

"What was that?" he demands. "Dolores, did you see that?"

"It was a cockroach, Five."

Five wrinkles his nose. Of course he knows there are cockroaches in the apocalypse. Those things can survive just about anything.

"You know," muses Dolores. "You could eat that."

"Come again?" Five raises his eyebrows, because Dolores most definitely did not say what he thinks she said.

"Stop. I'm being serious," snaps Dolores.

Five lets out a disbelieving and slightly hysterical laugh. "No. No way."

"It's better than starving."

"Anything's better than starving." At Delores's sharp glare, Five relents. "Fine. In an hour, if it doesn't stop raining I'll find a cockroach."

"Thank you," says Dolores.

An hour later it hasn't stopped raining.

"Shit," curses Five. Dolores has a slightly smug look on her face, and Five groans.

He stores away his notebook and pen, and crouches down to examine the ground. It takes him about ten minutes to find a cockroach, and three more to get himself to pick it up. Once he finally has the wriggling insect between his fingers he turns to Dolores.

"Now what?"

"Now you eat it."

Five gags. He makes a noise that's somewhat similar to a whine. "Here goes."

Five shoves the roach in his mouth and starts chewing as fast as possible. He can feel its tiny legs flailing around in his mouth, and the disgusting squelch that occurs when he bites down on its thorax is nearly enough to make him vomit.

He doesn't, because that would mean losing the little food that was in his stomach already. Dolores's chant of "don't throw up, don't throw up" doesn't do much to help.

He finally swallows the cockroach.

"Was it bad?" Dolores asks in awe.

Five wipes his mouth and spits, trying to get the taste out of his mouth.

"That was disgusting. I never want to repeat that."

He has to. Food doesn't last forever, and cockroaches are common. It's gross, but it's a food source.

+

Countless cockroaches and days later, Five and Dolores stumble across what used to be a library. Amongst all the libraries he's seen, this is one of the better ones.

"Do you think there are still books in there?" Five asks Dolores. She just shrugs.

"I don't know. I've never been to a library."

Five hums in acknowledgment. "Come on, let's go in."

In the ruins of the library, Five is pleasantly surprised to find an entire row of more or less intact bookshelves.

"Look!" He holds up a book to Dolores's face. "It's _'The Works of William Shakespeare, the Complete and Illustrated Edition'._ How cool is that?"

"Very," agrees Dolores. "Do you think _'Time Travel: A Hypothetical Guide'_ could help you?"

Five snatches up said book and flips through the first couple pages. "Dolores," he turns to her with a manic glint in his eye. "You are incredible."

"I try," she deadpans.

The two keep browsing the - if Five has to be honest - quite limited selection of books. At one point Five leaves Dolores in the wagon so he can walk around alone, picking out books and putting them in the backpack.

A plain paperback with a brown spine catches his eye. He plucks it off the shelf and turns it around, and then nearly drops it when he sees the cover.

Vanya's face stares back at him. Five blinks repeatedly, and no, it appears he is not hallucinating.

The book's printed in monochrome browns and beiges. In big white letters, the title proclaims, “EXTRA ORDINARY,” and under that in a smaller font, “My life as number seven.”

Five flips it open to the dedication page.

_"Dad,_

_I figured, why not?_

_V."_

Five carefully, carefully places it into his backpack, and turns back to Dolores. She looks at him with understanding eyes, and smiles.

"Come on. Let's find a place to stay."

+

It takes Five three days to read Vanya's book, mainly because he has to put it down every couple pages and scream.

There. He's done it. He's found a benefit to the end of the world. Scream all you want, nobody's there to hear you anyways.

After he's finished with "Extra Ordinary" he sits himself down and tries to process everything.

One: Ben is dead. He cried about that, which was bad. Crying is a loss of water, which means dehydration. If Five gets dehydrated, well…

Two: Diego. He's Diego now. Explains why he didn't take a name along with Five when Mom was distributing them.

Three: He has to admit, the book is written well. It’s not something that should have ever been written, but it’s written well. Vanya's a good author.

He's not even angry at her, not really. Mad, sure. Annoyed, definitely. Upset? As all hell. But angry? No. He doesn't hate Vanya for writing the book.

There were definitely better ways she could have gone about her loneliness, but Five kind of gets it.

She was alone for a long time, for years. Isolated from everybody. Just Vanya, her longing, and her violin.

Five stops himself from glancing at Dolores.

+

 _"Time Travel: A Hypothetical Guide"_ is actually surprisingly helpful. Of course, not all of it is completely accurate, which Five knows because his time travel wasn't so... hypothetical.

He spends months copying all of the relevant equations into one of his notebooks, going back and highlighting what he didn't know before. After a full year comes and goes, he can say that he's pretty confident in his new and improved calculations.

There's only one problem. Dolores.

"I don't think I'll be able to take you with me."

Dolores nods. "Okay."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're going back." Dolores smiles softly. "Besides, it's not like I'll be completely gone. You can come visit me any day."

Five sighs. "You're right. Thanks, Dolores. What would I do without you?"

"You'd go crazy," replies Dolores, not missing a beat.

"I guess so." Five kicks out a foot and nudges a pebble aside. After a moment of silence, he says, "It's been two years."

Dolores hums.

Five turns to look at her. "When do you think I should go?" he asks.

"Tomorrow," says Dolores. "Go tomorrow in the morning, so you can't change your mind."

"Thank you," says Five, and after a second adds on, "I'll miss you."

Dolores places a soft hand on his shoulder. "I'll miss you too, Five."

+

Jumping through space is easy. Jumping forward in time? That was harder, but Five managed it. Jumping backward is an entirely different matter.

Inhale. Exhale.

Five clenches his fists. He reaches down for the blue of his power and agonizingly slowly draws it up to the surface, like water from a well.

He lets it spread out in the air, focusing on making it big enough. The equations are at the front of his mind.

"Okay," he breathes. "Okay."

The blue is growing in intensity, and if Five's eyes were open he would see that the wasteland before him is being painted over with grass and rain.

He scrunches up his forehead, takes in one last breath, and _pushes_. There's a pop, like butter heating in a microwave.

The young boy disappears, and what's left behind is a barren wasteland, and half of a mannequin with wide eyes in a beat up wagon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Vanya goes to what's supposed to be a funeral.


	2. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya is feeling kind of grey, and her family isn't doing much to help. She's a bit sad about two certain brothers, and in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanya you sad bean. Why must you think so little of yourself.

_"Our father had photographs of the Academy lining one of the many hallways of our home, each picture hung in a plain black frame. If you look, you can see that in the first picture there are seven people. In the second, there are six. In the next one, another person is gone. There are now five people standing in the frame, none of them looking directly at the camera. Those pictures were the closest thing we had to family photos._

_Of all the people in the picture frames, not a single one of them is me."_

+

Vanya unlocks the door to her apartment and glances inside, making sure there's nobody in her home. A habit she hasn't been able to shake, even after leaving the Academy.

She shuffles inside, toeing off her shoes, and places her violin on the table, brushing her hand across the case. Her feet take her into her bedroom, where she dazedly strips off her jacket and lets it slip down to the floor.

Vanya's head feels like it was stuffed with a cloud.

"Oh god," she mumbles. Vanya falls down onto her bed, face up. "Dad…"

She can't believe it. The man who has put her through so much, who has isolated and repeatedly crushed her self esteem, the man who caused her family so much pain grief and despair…

Gone.

It's almost unreal. How can such a looming presence vanish so quickly? One day he was there, at the back of her mind, and the next his death was being reported on television.

Strangely enough, Vanya feels a little… weighed.

She should feel free. In a way, she does. But there's also the weight of change. Change is… Vanya is not the best at dealing with it. Her breathing picks up in pace.

She starts listing facts. Simple truths to calm herself down, because she doesn't want to dry swallow a pill quite yet.

Breathe. Her name is Vanya Hargreeves, and she's twenty-nine years old. She's the third chair in the orchestra at the Icarus Theatre, she lives alone, and she has four siblings, three brothers and one sister. She also has two other brothers, but one of them is gone and the other is dead.

Like Dad.

Vanya's on the verge of hyperventilating. Shit. Shit shit shit. Her hands are shaking. Fuck. Damnit.

Oh god, she's going down, falling deeper and deeper, and soon she's going to disappear completely, consumed by the squirming darkness at the center of her chest because she can't breathe and-

Vanya pulls out her prescription bottle and dumps a pill onto her palm, popping it on her tongue and swallowing.

Relief washes over her, and she can feel the mess of dark, wriggling thread in her chest start to untangle.

"Shit," she says to the ceiling.

+

Vanya leans her head against the taxi window. She's on her way to the Academy, and even though the thread has smoothed out…

She doesn't know how she feels. She just wants to go home and crawl under the covers, pulling them over her head.

The driver grunts as they pull up to Vanya's childhood home. She hands him the money she owes. As soon as she's out of the car, he's off, the wheels of the yellow taxi rolling on the road.

Vanya tightens her coat around her, and walks up to the door. She pushes it open.

Walking into the mansion, Vanya can't help but notice how little has changed. The stuffed heads are still up on the walls, the chairs are still the same. Mom is sitting in one of her little nooks, staring at-?

"Mom?" Vanya calls out. Grace doesn't move her head or give any sign that she heard Vanya. "Mom."

"Vanya?"

Vanya turns. Allison is walking down the staircase towards her. "You're actually here…"

"Hey, Allison." Vanya lowers her gaze to the ground. Allison lets out a single airy chuckle, before walking straight to Vanya and pulling her into a tight embrace. "Hey, sis."

Vanya hugs back, and is just about to tell Allison how glad she is to see her when, "Ah."

Allison pulls away, and so does Vanya. Diego just walked into the room.

"What is she doing here?" he asks, before turning to Vanya. "You don't belong here. Not after what you did."

Allison sighs in annoyance. "You're seriously going to do this today? Way to dress for the occasion, by the way. Gold star."

"Hey, at least I'm wearing black," Diego says over his shoulder as he walks up the stairs Allison came down from seconds ago.

Vanya fidgets. "You- you know what, maybe he's right. I shouldn't have-"

"Forget about him," cuts her off Allison. "I'm glad you're here."

Vanya gives Allison a hesitant smile, and nearly bursts into happy tears when her sister grins back.

+

Allison leaves to find and greet the rest of their siblings, so Vanya is left to wander the halls of the Hargreeves mansion alone.

She makes her way to the library. She used to come here all the time to practice violin, and sometimes even with Ben or Five to read. Her chest squeezes at the thought of the two siblings.

Vanya's fingers brush across the spines of numerous books, her skin tingling with the feeling of paper and words under her hands. Her fingertips stop at an average looking book.

Vanya pulls her autobiography off the shelf. On the cover, her ten-year-old face greets her. Vanya sighs as she flips it open to read the dedication.

_"Dad,_

_I figured, why not?_

_V."_

Her fingers trace the ink in a sort of trance. Then a cough sounds from her right, and Vanya snaps the book shut.

"Welcome home, Miss Vanya."

"Pogo," says Vanya. "It's, uh, good to see you."

Pogo hums in acknowledgment, looking at the book Vanya is still holding. She hurries to place it back onto the shelf, stuffing her hands into her pockets when she's done. Pogo's eyes follow her hands, and then come to rest on her face. "Ah, yes. Your autobiography."

Vanya bites her lip nervously. "Yeah. Uh, Pogo, do you know-" she cuts herself off, trying to arrange her words. "Did he ever read it?"

She doesn't have to specify who "he" is. Pogo shakes his head, looking down at the ground. "Hmm. Not that I'm aware of."

Vanya nods in acceptance. She turns her gaze to Five's portrait above the fireplace. Pogo follows her eyes, and also turns to the likeliness of her brother.

"How long has it been since Five disappeared?" asks Vanya.

"It has been sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days," says Pogo without missing a beat. At Vanya's confused look he elaborates, "Your father insisted I keep track."

Vanya turns back to the painting, satisfied with his answer. She can't help but think that the portrait that has been hanging in their home for over a decade, doesn't even… really look like Five. Five was bright, and smart, and a little bit of an asshole. (She could not have said, or even thought that sixteen years ago.)

The painting shows somebody different. It shows a young boy with a calm stare and sad eyes. He has heavy eyelids, like he's about to start monologuing about the importance of discipline and regulation.

He seems stuffy and uptight, and although Five was uptight, just a little, (or as Klaus would have put it, he had a stick up his ass), he wasn't--

The portrait makes him look like Reginald.

Ben's statue too, is like that. Ben was calm, and soothing. He was a little reclusive towards… the end, but he was also the one who tagged along with Klaus whenever shenanigans were to happen.

His statue makes him look sad. Nothing else. It doesn't even look like him.

"You wanna know something stupid?" says Vanya, not taking her eyes off the portrait. "I always used to leave the lights on for him."

Pogo makes a quiet noise of understanding. "I was scared that he would come back, it'd be late, and the house would be dark. He wouldn't be able to find us, so he'd leave again.

"So every night I'd make a little snack, and turn in all the lights."

"Oh," says Pogo. "I remember your snacks. I'm pretty sure I stepped in half of those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches."

The corner of Vanya's mouth quirks up in a half smile. "Fluffernutter" sandwiches was what Klaus had dubbed them, and the name had stuck. Five had called them that until the day he disappeared. "Yeah." She sighs. "Stupid, right?"

Pogo sighs. "Miss Vanya… Your father, he always believed Number Five was still out there, somewhere." The chimpanzee turns his bespectacled eyes to Vanya. "He never lost hope."

"Hm." Vanya makes a noise between a snort and a huff. "And look where that got him…"

+

Vanya sits in the very corner of the couch, trying to press herself into the armrest cushion as much as possible. Allison sits in a chair to her left, and Luther and Diego are across from her.

The family meeting's about to begin.

"So, um," says Luther, standing up. "I… guess we should get this started."

All eyes are on him. Not Klaus's, but Klaus is at the back of the room, pouring himself a glass of… something. Allison sips from her glass of amber liquid. Maybe whiskey, but Vanya has never been well versed in alcohol.

"So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at Dad's favorite spot."

"Dad had a favorite spot?" Allison asks, confused.

"Yeah, you know, under the oak tree? We used to sit out there all the time. Did none of you ever do that?"

"Will there be refreshments?" says Klaus, waltzing into the room with a glass in his hand and a tilt to his stance. "Tea? Scones? Ooh, cucumber sandwiches are always a winner." He takes a drag from the cigarette he's holding.

"What? No. And-- put that out, you know Dad didn't allow smoking in here."

"Is that my skirt?" loudly interjects Allison, eyes trained on Klaus. He looks down, as if to make sure it's the skirt she's talking about. "What?"

Before Allison can repeat her question, he continues. "Oh, yeah, this. It's a bit dated, I know, but very," he wiggles his hips and gestures downwards, " _breathy_ , on the bits."

Vanya doesn't say it out loud, but she thinks Klaus looks good in the skirt. It suits him. Klaus walks over and plops himself down on the couch next to Vanya, smiling giddily and giving her a little wave, which is more of a finger wiggle. Vanya returns the gesture, albeit much more timidly.

"Listen up," Luther says, as Allison rolls her eyes. "There are still some important things we need to discuss. All right?"

"Like what?" says Diego.

"Like the way Dad _died_."

"And here we go," rolls his eyes Diego.

"I-- I don't understand," speaks up Vanya. "I thought-? Didn't they say it was a heart attack?"

"Well, according to the coroner," says Luther.

"Well wouldn't they know?"

"Theoretically."

"Theoretically?" Allison leans forward. She's put her glass onto the table next to her, as not to spill it.

"Well I'm just saying, at the very least, _something_ happened. The… last time I talked to Dad, he sounded strange."

"Oh, _quelle surprise_!" Klaus gurgles through a mouthful of liquid, his head thrown onto the back of the couch. Vanya's lips quirk in a smile.

"Strange how?" asks Allison.

"He sounded… on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust." Luther sounds slightly lost, like he should know why Dad was doing… whatever happened, but doesn't.

"Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter, old man." Diego starts cracking his knuckles. That tells Vanya he's feeling stressed, or anxious, but it's not like she's going to say it out loud. "He was starting to lose what was left of his marbles, which is--"

"Not much!" pipes up Klaus.

"Thanks, Klaus. Just give it up, Luther. He was crazy, and--"

"No. He must have known… _something_ was going to happen. Look," he turns to Klaus. "I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to summon Dad."

Klaus chokes on his drink and keels over, clearly trying to keep everything in his mouth from spilling out. When he straightens up he wipes the stray liquid from his chin.

"I can't just--" he scoffs, throwing up his hands. "I can't just call Dad in the afterlife and be like," he raises his voice an octave and talks in a quieter nasally voice, making the telephone hand gesture. _"Hey, Dad? Could you-- could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and-- and take a quick call?_ Yeah, no."

"Since when?" persists Luther. "That's your thing."

"I'm not in the right," he makes a flapping hand gesture. "Frame of mind."

"You're high?" bluntly says Allison, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah!" laughs Klaus, pointing at her. "Yeah! I mean, how are you not, listening to this… _nonsense_?!"

"Well sober up," snaps Luther. "This is important."

"There's also," he continues, addressing everybody in the room. "The issue of the missing monocle."

"Oh, who gives a shit about a stupid monocle," mumbles Diego. Luther of course hears him, and immediately snaps back, "Exactly. The monocle's worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him, someone with a grudge."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Oh," hisses Diego, pushing himself out of his chair and standing in front of Luther. "Isn't it obvious, Klaus? He thinks," he punctuates his words by jabbing a finger at Luther's chest. "One of _us_. Killed Dad."

Everybody is quiet for a moment, either processing the statement or waiting for Luther to deny it. He doesn't.

Klaus gives a soft gasp. "You do… _How could you think that?"_

"Wait, that's not what I-"

"Great job, Luther." Diego claps him on the shoulder with a tight smile that's anything but friendly. "Way. To lead."

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"You're crazy, man." Klaus also gets up, and starts backing away towards the bar, warily thrusting a finger at Luther. "Crazy!"

"I'm not finished--"

"No, no, sorry, but I need to leave. Just have to," Klaus takes in a deep breath. "Go _murder Mom_ , really quick! Don't wait up!"

"I didn't--" Luther sighs. Everybody is clearing out. Nobody's listening to him anymore. "Allison--"

But she just shakes her head and silently leaves, drink in hand. "That went well," Luther mumbles to himself.

Vanya stays in the room even after everybody is gone, alone, thinking of nothing.

+

The beginning beat of "I Think We're Alone Now" sounds through the walls to the bottom floors. Vanya lifts her head, trying to locate the source of the music. She's sitting on the steps leading down to the entry hall, waiting for… something.

But the music sounds, and Vanya can't help but wonder if…

No, no, that's silly. They wouldn't, would they? But maybe--?

Tiffany starts singing the first words of the song, and Vanya decides you know what, fuck it. It's happening. The first family dance party in years.

She lifts herself off the steps and starts to sway with the music. She can picture the others in her mind. Allison is most likely swinging a chain or boa around, draping it over her shoulders, while Luther is probably doing a bunch of silly dance moves they always made fun of him for.

Well, not Vanya. She just giggled quietly on the sidelines.

Klaus is probably bending backward over chairs and tables, mouthing the lyrics in an over-exaggerated fashion. Diego…

There's no way Diego isn't going all out. He's always loved dancing, and was the best at it out of all of them, too. He's probably behind closed doors, pretending not to dance but actually jamming out with the moonwalk and whatever else fits the rhythm.

Of course, what does Vanya know. She's just--

 _No. Not right now._ She's not thinking about that now. Right now, she's going to dance.

(Vanya's been talking to her therapist more lately.)

As soon as Vanya stands up, she remembers that she doesn't actually know how to dance. She can picture Klaus in her mind, saying something like "Mi hermanita, nobody gives a flying fuck whether you're a pro or the shittiest dancer in the world. Just dance! Live a little!"

She cracks a smile. Klaus is always good at cheering people up.

Vanya moves her shoulders and arms, shuffling from side to side in what has to be the most awkward dance… ever.

She snorts.

Another verse begins and ends and she's actually having fun. The knowledge that her siblings are also dancing to the same song somewhere in the house makes her even more content.

Her moment of bliss is interrupted by a blast of noise, loud thundering noise, that shakes the house. The music shuts off, and the lights flicker.

"What?" Vanya's voice barely reaches her own ears. She turns around. The noise came from the back of the house.

Looking through the window, she can see that everything is lit with blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Ben makes Klaus attend a family gathering.
> 
>  **Me:** I'll wait a little longer until I update  
>  **The instant gratification of Ao3 comments:** No you won't  
>  **Me:** You're right I won't


	3. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus doesn't want to be here, and everything is kind of going to shit. But hey, at least he looks absolutely amazing in his skirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of Ben in this chapter, and I regret nothing. He's probably incredibly out of character, but it's my city now.

_"We'll see you soon, Klaus."_

_"Mhm."_

_"Stay sober."_

+

"Klaus."

"Yeah?" Klaus responds, not looking at his ghostly companion. "What is it?"

"Why are you doing this? Look, why don't we go and find you somewhere to eat? You could get waffles."

"Yeah, sure. Definitely."

"Klaus!" exclaims Ben. "Are you even listening to me?"

"No," grins Klaus. "Not at all."

"Klaus."

Klaus continues ignoring his brother's nagging, and makes his way to the alleyway he knows Robert frequents. He ambles in, already digging the cash he saved out from one of his many pockets.

Robert greets him with a smile and a hug, clapping him on the back. "I got you the usual," he says into Klaus's ear.

Klaus laughs. "Ah, gracias, mi amigo! What would I do without you."

Robert snorts, and passes Klaus the baggie of pills. "I'll see you around?"

"'Course." Klaus presses a kiss to the plastic of the baggie, and waves his "goodbye" hand at Robert.

Rob waves back.

"Klaus, you should stop right about now," Ben says as they're walking down the dirty street. Klaus tears open the bag and pours a handful of pills out onto his palm.

"Oh fuck off, Ben. Live a little."

"Ouch," Ben mutters with a matching eye-roll. Klaus smirks and tosses back his head, popping all the pills into his mouth at once.

The next thing Klaus knows, he's being fed oxygen through a mask in an ambulance.

"Wooh!" He shakes himself out. Klaus sits up and slaps the paramedic's hand outstretched. He looks up, and meets Dave's eyes. "How's life going?"

Dave snorts. "Oh, nothing much. You know, an addict here, a car crash there. What about you?"

"I just had the most amazing high, Davey. It's great, life's fantastic."

"Yeah," says Dave. "About that. I'd really prefer if I _didn't_ have to revive you every month or so. Could you do something about that?"

"Ah, but Dave! The thing is--" Klaus is cut of by the news fanfare playing on the little TV in the corner. Ben is staring at it it shock. He leans forward to hear the words better.

"Hold that thought," he frowns. "Dave, could you drop me off at the nearest bus stop?"

"Why? You know, I'm supposed to take you to the hospital and--"

"It's my Dad."

+

So now here he is, inside his Dear Daddy-O's _fucking_ mansion. Woo.

He didn't actually want to come, but Benny Boy was being persistent. When Klaus still refused, he pulled the "I'm dead and want to go, do this for me Klaus" card, and well.

One of these days Ben won't be able to use that to make Klaus do things anymore. (Or stop him from doing things, but tomayto-tomahto.)

The fucker isn't even here for some reason, so Klaus decides to take a little look at Reggie's office. Of course, he also wasn't here to stop Klaus from smoking a joint beforehand.

Wow, being in here really brings back memories. Klaus can't even count how many times they waited at the door together, hoping for a "good night" from Dad, but got absolutely nothing. Huh. It's not like Dad could ever give them _acknowledgment_ , or god forbid! _Validation_.

"Where's the cash, Dad?" Klaus mutters, as he's rummaging through drawers. Of course he couldn't have just put a war of money in his desk. He was making Klaus's life complicated even after death. Figures. "Where's the cash?"

"Klaus?" He looks up to see Allison standing in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Allie! Is that you? Ooh, come here." Klaus gets up wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, and is thrilled when she hugs back.

"Long time," says Allison from between his arms.

"Too long," he agrees.

Klaus pulls away from his sister's arms. "Hey, I was actually hoping to see you to get your auto-graaaaph!" He smiles cheekily, bringing his hands under his chin. "Add it to my collection--"

Allison rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face. "Just out of rehab?" She nods to the plastic strip around Klaus's wrist. Shit, he forgot he was still wearing it. "This? Psh, no, no, no. I'm done with all that."

She raises her eyebrows, snorting. "I just came down here to make sure that the old man," Klaus elaborates, voice taking on a somber tone. "is really dead."

He grins, clapping his hands. "And he is! He's dead! Yaaay!"

"You wanna know how I know?" Allison nods, probably just deciding to humor him. Eh, he'll take what he can have. Klaus plops himself down in Dad's chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk. "Because if Dad were alive, not one of us would be allowed to set foot in this room."

Allison nods. "He was always in here, our whole childhood, plotting his next torment, right?" continues Klaus. " I mean, remember how he used to look at us? That scowl?" He waves up at the painting of Reginald hanging above him. "Thank Christ he wasn't our real father, so we couldn't inherit those cold, dead eyes." Kalus pulls his eyelids apart with his fingers, making Allison chuckle. "Gaaah!"

He imitates Reggie's voice. "Number Three!"

"Get out of his chair." Klaus turns, dropping his hands.

"Oh, wow, Luther! You really filled out over the years, huh?"

"Klaus." Luther crosses his arms. Klaus lifts his hands, switching to a flatter tone of voice. "Save the lecture, Lu. I was already leaving. You two can talk amongst yourselves." He waves at Luther and Allison.

As he's passing Luther, the beefcake flings out a hand, effectively stopping Klaus in his tracks. "Drop it."

"Egg-squeeze me?"

"Do it," growls Luther. "Now."

"Alright, alright! Yeesh." Klaus keeps eye contact, slowly digging into his pockets and pulling out a candle holder. And a watch. And a bunch of other useless, but probably expensive junk.

"It's just an advance on our inheritance! That's it, that's all it is!" Allison snorts from behind him. "No need to _get your little panties in a bunch_."

Luther moves his arm, satisfied with what Klaus has dropped to the floor. Klaus rolls his eyes and mutters, "Dick," as he moves out of the room.

As soon as he's safe in the Luther-free hallways, he pulls the box out from under his coat.

"Ah," he laughs to himself. "Score." He presses a quick kiss to it, and makes his way to his old room. What better place to hide a precious belonging he's going to pawn off?

+

Klaus is at the bar, debating what alcoholic substance to pour into a glass. He has a wine glass, so the most logical step would be, well, wine. But on the other hand, wine is not nearly strong enough for the shit that's about to go on. He can already feel the angry cloud of tension hanging over… well, nobody in particular. Just the whole family that's currently gathered, really.

"Hm." It's really a tough choice. After another moment of internal conflict, he finally settles on whiskey. Perfect.

Taking a sip immediately washes relief over him. He lights a cigarette, placing that between his fingers.

Much better. Now he's fully prepared to deal with his family.

Walking from the bar to the sitting room takes about five seconds, but the change in atmosphere is immediate.

"--under the oak tree? We used to sit out there all the time. Did none of you ever do that?" Luther is saying. Klaus decides this is a perfect time to cut in.

"Will there be refreshments?" he says. "Tea? Scones? Ooh, cucumber sandwiches are always a winner." Klaus takes a drag from his cigarette.

"What? No. And-- put that out, you know Dad didn't allow smoking in here." Luther's really upping his "leadership" today. Gross.

Before he can get out another word, Allison saves the day. "Is that my skirt?" Or not. Goddammit, Allison.

"What?" Klaus says, his mind not processing her words right away. "Oh, yeah, this. It's a bit dated, I know, but very," he wiggles his hips and gestures downwards, " _breathy_ , on the bits."

Allison rolls her eyes. Well if she can't appreciate style, sucks to be her. Klaus doesn't owe her shit. He plops himself down next to Vanya, because she's still probably at least a little sane. He waves at her, and grins in delight when she waves back. Very hesitantly, he must say. She should really work on her confidence.

"Listen up," Luther says. "There are still some important things we need to discuss. All right?"

"Like what?" Diego says, and aw, he's annoyed. How the shit did Luther already manage to get on his nerves? Klaus fiddles with the hem of Allie's skirt. Although, if you think about it, it's a skirt, and it's in his possession. Therefore, it's his skirt. Nice.

"Like the way Dad _died_."

"And here we go," mutters his leather-clad brother.

"I-- I don't understand," Vanya speaks up. You go, Vanya, _carpe diem_! Seize the goddamn day! "I thought-? Didn't they say it was a heart attack?"

"Well, according to the coroner," says Luther.

"Well wouldn't they know?"

"Theoretically."

What does that even mean? "Theoretically"? Of course they would know.

"Theoretically?" Allison asks. Klaus notices that she was drinking whiskey too.

"Well I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened. The… last time I talked to Dad, he sounded strange," goes on Luther. Klaus laughs to himself at that. And then not to himself.

"Oh, _quelle surprise_!" he guggles with his head on the back of the couch. The alcohol washes down his throat, stinging as it coats the walls of his esophagus.

"Strange how?"

"He sounded… on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust." Luther sounds like he absolutely doesn't know what he's talking about.

"Damn. Lu-lu really needs to figure out what the hell he wants to say." Oh, there's Ben. Klaus discreetly waves at him. Benny walks over and hovers next to the back of the couch, and a quick glance tells Klaus that as of now, the hovering is literal.

Show off. As if sensing his thoughts, Ben sticks his tongue out at him.

"He was starting to lose what was left of his marbles, which is--" Diego is saying.

"Not much!" adds in Klaus.

"Thanks, Klaus. Just give it up, Luther. He was crazy, and--"

"Oof," murmurs Ben. Klaus tilts up his glass in agreement, taking a long sip.

"No. He must have known… something was going to happen. Look," Luther turns to Klaus. "I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to summon Dad."

It takes an inhumane amount of effort to not spit whiskey all over the floor. What Klaus does instead is bend over, hacking and coughing with his mouth closed. He straightens up once he's not on the verge of choking to death, and wipes the runaway liquor from his chin in astonishment.

"I can't just--" he scoffs. "I can't just call Dad in the afterlife and be like," he squeakens his voice while making the telephone hand gesture. " _Hey, Dad? Could you-- could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and-- and take a quick call?_ Yeah, no."

"Since when?" persists Luther, resident dumbass. "That's your thing."

"Bold of you to assume he's sober enough to conjure a dead houseplant," calls Ben from behind Klaus, which okay, _true_ , but there's no need to say it. At least only Klaus can hear him.

Klaus decides to humor Ben by agreeing with him, in a turnabout sort of way. "I'm not in the right... frame of mind," he says, flapping his hand.

" _Boo_ , you whore," says Ben, quoting Mean Girls. Classic. "Stop being so drunk. And high."

"You're high?" Allison deadpans.

"Yeah!" laughs Klaus, pointing at her. "Yeah! I mean, how are you not, listening to this… _nonsense_?!"

"Well sober up," snaps Luther. "This is important." Is it though? Klaus would really rather avoid any conversations with their pappy.

"There's also the issue of the missing monocle," Luther continues.

"Oh, who gives a shit about the stupid monocle," mumbles Diego. Klaus is inclined to agree, and judging from his expression, so is Ben.

"Exactly. The monocle's worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him, someone with a grudge."

Klaus knows that Luther is implying something, but in his slightly muddled state, he can't quite put his finger on it. He decides to ask, like a sensible person. "Where are you going with this?"

"Oh," hisses Diego, rising from his seat. "Isn't it obvious, Klaus?" Well clearly not, because he fucking _asked_. This family really needs to work on their deduction skills. "He thinks," Diego pushes a stabby finger at Luther. "One of _us_. Killed Dad."

It takes a moment for Klaus's brain to catch up. But when Ben whispers "Holy shit," it all clicks for him. He gasps, pressing his hand with the cigarette to his chest.

"You do… _How_ could you _think_ _that_?"

"Wait, that's not what I--"

Diego smacks Luther's shoulder with an angry smile stretched across his face. "Great job, Luther. Way. To lead."

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"Well it sure seems like you are!" huffs Ben.

Klaus gets up. "You're crazy, man." He has to transfer the cigarette to his other hand so he can point a finger at Luther. "Crazy!"

"I'm not finished--" Luther apparently doesn't realize it's hopeless to even try anymore. Screw him.

"No, no, sorry, but I need to leave. Just have to," Klaus takes in a deep breath. "Go _murder Mom_ , really quick! Don't wait up!"

Ben trails after Klaus as he walks out of the room, both of them ignoring Luther's denials.

+

"So. You gonna try to summon Dad?"

"Guess so, Bentacle boy. What a strange world we live in."

"Don't call me that," snaps Ben, his arms crossed. "You want me to stay or leave?" he adds, softer.

Klaus winces. "Could you go?"

Ben nods in understanding. "Sure. I'll be in the library. Come find me when you're done."

Klaus sighs in relief. "Knew I could count on ya, Ben." He doesn't bother to ask how he'll read. He knows full well neither of them know the answer to that query. Ben can just… pick up shit. But not touch shit. There's a difference, and who the fuck even knows how ghost-physics work? Is that even a thing?

Klaus shakes his head. He's got an asshole to summon.

How do you summon a ghost? Klaus wouldn't know. He's never actually tried. Dad has attempted to force him into it, of course. Multiple times, even. But, well. By the time he tried to do that Klaus has already discovered the marvel that is narcotics.

Okay. He'll probably need Dad's ashes. Check.

Klaus can't think of anything else, so he just decides to go for it.

After fifteen minutes, he's starting to get pretty annoyed.

"Listen up, old man. You know, if I was murdered, and one of my sons, adopted! Adopted sons could commune with the _dead_ , I'd think about," Klaus cheerily tells the urn, "Oh I don't know, I don't know, manifesting!" Klaus throws his hands up in a "rise" motion. Predictably, _nothing fucking happens_.

"Come on! Do the whole _big, angry, ghost_ lecture!" Klaus grouches. "Tell everyone who done it, and find," he spreads his arms, " _eternal peace._ " When Reggie still doesn't show up, Klaus narrows his eyes at the urn and spits, " _Eternal peace_ is _probably_ overrated."

Klaus sighs. "Okay. Any time now." The urn is stubbornly spirit-free. "Please?"

"Uuugh. Okay. Just need to _sober up-_!" Klaus claps his cheeks. "Clear thoughts."

Klaus shakily exhales. "Come on! _Chop chop_!" he shouts. "You," a finger is thrust at the ugly-ass urn. " _Always_ were a _stubborn bastard!_ Come oooon!"

Klaus is this close to stabbing himself through the heart with the _fucking_ _urn_. "You know?" he pants. "I don't know about you, but I need a drink." When all else fails, turn to alcohol.

Klaus leans over onto the desk, and freezes in terror when the urn goes toppling. "Oh shit," he whispers. "Fucking hell, _no_!"

He laughs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair and further messing it up. "Oh my god."

"Ben. Right. Ben will know what to do."

Klaus quickly dashes into the library, looking around for his ghostie bro.

"Ben!" he whisper-shouts. "Beeeen!"

"Yeah?" Ben says at a normal volume, his head popping out from behind a bookcase. Klaus rolls his eyes. Ben was sitting on the floor again.

"I need your help, Ben!"

Ben raises an eyebrow at the urgency in his tone. "Oh?"

"Come on, go go go! In the office!"

Ben follows Klaus as he runs back to the office, careful not to let anybody spot him. Klaus is silently thankful for Ben going the same speed at him, even though he could poof into the office with ease.

"Okay," says Klaus as he skids into the room and shuts the door behind him. "So I did a thing."

"A thing." Ben deadpans. "And what sort of thing, Klaus, did you do this time?"

Klaus winces. "No need for all that salt, Benny. Sodium isn't good for you." He pointedly ignores Ben's mutter of "says you."

"What I did was… well." He waves at the tabletop, which Ben happens to be right in front of. Ben turns around, and immediately blue screens.

"You're joking." Klaus can hear the panic in Ben's voice. "I'm hallucinating."

"Ghosts can't hallucinate," points out Klaus. "And also please help me."

Ben presses his hands to his mouth, eyes wide, and takes a deep breath. Look at you go, Reggie, the trauma from your abuse and overall shittiness has managed to hang onto your kids even after your death. And their death. Congratulations. "Okay. Here's what I think we should do."

"Stop stalling, Ben!"

"Shut up! You know that plant?" Klaus moves his eyes to the potted plant on one of the bookcases. "Yeah?"

"You lift the plant out of the pot, and then you put the spilled ashes into the pot. Then you put the plant back."

"Ben, you're a genius!" Klaus says, already moving towards the plant. He pulls it out, along with the dirt, and then carefully rights the urn, making sure that more ashes don't spill out.

He then sweeps the ashes on the table into the pot and covers them with the dirt and plant.

"Hallelujah!" Ben cheers. "You did it! Now Luther and Pogo won't decapitate you!"

Klaus moans in relief, and flngs himself into the chair. After closing the urn, of course.

"I love you, Ben."

"Aw, I love me too." Ben laughs at the offended look Klaus throws at him. "Come on, let's go to the kitchen."

"Why?"

"I dunno. You probably want to, knowing you."

It's at this moment Klaus's stomach makes a loud rumbling noise. "Shit, you're right. Let's go, Ben."

This time, Ben doesn't bother being nice. He sticks his tongue out when Klaus enters the kitchen. "Why are you still carrying Dad?"

Klaus looks down, and whoops, looks like he forgot to leave the urn in the office. But Ben doesn't have to know that.

"Dunno," he shrugs. "Thought I might try to summon him some more."

Ben nods, squinting at the urn in thought. "Do you think if you do it I could punch him? 'Cause I kinda _really_ want to punch him."

"Ha," Klaus sighs. "Don't we all?"

After opening the fridge to find it pretty much empty, (Craisins and kimchi. He's hungry, but not _that_ hungry.) Klaus decides to bend himself over a chair and see how long he can hold it, just to give himself something to do.

"Blargh."

"Hey, do you hear that?"

Klaus strains his ears. "Oh shit, is that what I think it is?" The music is getting louder, and now Klaus can hear it clearly.

"Oh my god. Luther really did that."

Klaus smirks. "Wanna dance, Tentacle boy?"

Ben slaps his arm, or would have, if he could touch him. "Don't call me that. And duh."

"Great."

Klaus throws himself up, still holding on to the urn. He starts moving his shoulders to the beat of the song, mouthing the words along.

Ben is dancing too, although with much less actual movement. He's stepping from side to side, nodding his head along with the rhythm.

Klaus holds his free hand out to Ben, who in turn hovers his own just over Klaus's. Klaus mimes pulling Ben towards him, who grins and acts as if he's actually been touched.

They spin around together, Ben laughing and Klaus smiling as he silently sings "I Think We're Alone Now."

Ben though, Ben is actually singing. Not all the lines, but the ones he remembers are doubled, his voice and Tiffany's overlapping.

 _"Holding on to one another's hand,"_ he belts. _"Tryin' to get away, into the night--_ "

 _"And then you put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then we say,"_ joins in Klaus.

They twirl together in their dance, not touching but knowing exactly what to do. They've been perfecting this for years, adding in moves and styles as they delved deeper into it. Neither of them are particularly good dancers, but slowly, over the years, it's become _their_ dance. Theirs and theirs alone.

 _"Doesn't seem to be anyone around--"_ Ben grins. _"I think we're alone now, the beating of our hearts is the only--"_ Ben's voice is cut off by a roar of noise that shakes the house. The lights flash and the music cuts off. The urn in Klaus's hand jerks away from him, which is a good enough reason for him to gasp, "Daddy?"

Ben throws a _look_ at Klaus. So not Reginald then. In silence, the two brothers run out of the kitchen.

+

Outside, Klaus doesn't know what's going on. Granted, he rarely does, but right now the feeling of being lost is particularly strong.

There's a glowing blue thingamabobber in their backyard. Klaus is still holding the urn, but he is suddenly stricken with a better idea.

He rushes past his siblings back inside, and carefully dumps the urn on a table, grabbing a fire extinguisher.

"How will that help?" Ben yells. Klaus ignores him.

"Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly," Luther is shouting when Klaus runs back out. "Either that or a miniature black hole! One of the two."

"Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan!" Diego tries to out-shout the roaring noise and almost succeeds. His lung capacity really is something.

"Out of the way!" screeches Klaus, running up to the "temporal anomaly" and spraying it with the extinguisher. That fails, unsurprisingly, so he raises it over his head and chucks the extinguisher at the blue vortex. Can he call it that? It kind of seems like a vortex. It gets sucked into it.

"What was that gonna do?" Allison yells at him.

"I don't know," wails Klaus. "You have a better idea?"

The blue thing crackles, sending another wave of noise at them. "Everybody get behind me!" shouts Luther.

"Yeah," interjects Diego. "Get behind us!"

"I vote for running, c'mon!"

Klaus throws himself a couple of feet away from the blue portal just as it cracks with electric blue energy again. He can see a small figure on the other side of it, pounding its child-sized fist on the portal and screaming.

"Doesn't that look…?" Ben trails off.

It snaps together in Klaus's mind like fucking Legos. _Blue. Portal. Energy._

No no, it can't be, because that would only mean-

The blue tears open in one last bout of _loud_ and spits out a kid in a dirty sweater. A kid in a sweater with a backpack strapped to his back and messy hair and dirt under his fingernails and a chest rising up and down. A kid standing on shaky legs, wheezing and panting and trying to get as much air into himself as possible.  
  
A kid who's alive, and can't be older than thirteen, and looks just like--

"Uh, does anybody see little Number Five, or is that just me?"

The kid who is most definitely their long-lost brother looks up at Klaus with green eyes, and immediately falls over.

"Shit!" yelp Klaus and Ben at the same time. Klaus rushes over to Five, grabbing him under the armpits to keep him from hitting the ground. Five’s weight is too much for Klaus to hold up, so they both sink down to the damp grass.

Five's eyelids are fluttering, threatening to close. "I did it," he whispers in awe, looking at Klaus like he can't believe he's there. Ben moves his hand to hover over Five's head, offering his invisible comfort. "I really did it."

And then right there in Klaus's arms, his siblings staring at him in shock, is when Five's body goes limp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! Haha! Also yes, the drug dealer is named Robert because I couldn't think of a name. Writing Ben and Klaus is fun. Klaus just aggressively supporting Vanya? Is my jam?
> 
> Uuh please leave comments they feed my soul.
> 
> Next chapter: People freak out, Mom is amazing, and Diego takes a nap.


	4. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego tries to deal with their newly acquired sibling. He ends up taking a nap instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm gonna say it. This chapter is super short and uneventful because ~writer's block~ and I got stuck so this is what I'm posting.
> 
> Just realized that there is an extremely brief mention of suicide, so warning for that.

"He's not dead!" yells Klaus as soon as Five goes slack in his arms. "He just fainted, he's not dead!"

"Oh my god," Allison wheezes, slightly hysterical. "Thank fuck-- Oh god, oh GOD--"

"It's all good!" Klaus offers a hesitant thumbs up and panicked smile. His breathing is heavy and much like all of them, slightly panicked. "Not dead!"

"Holy shit," breathes Diego. "What the fuck!"

"Uh," Luther mumbles. "Did that just--?"

Klaus blinks rapidly and then stares down at Five. "Yeah, I mean, I don't _think_ I'm hallucinating. Oh shit, we should probably get him to Mom, shouldn't we? Where's Mom?"

"Here, I'll take him," offers Luther, already walking towards Klaus. The medium carefully transfers Five to Luther's arms, clearly relieved he won't have to attempt lifting the kid and carrying him.

_Oh shitting fuck, he's a kid. Why is Five a kid?_

"What now?" Vanya says. Her voice is shaking a little, and Diego remembers that she was closest to Five, taking it hardest when he disappeared. "Do we just… Give him to Mom?"

"No, we give him to Mom and then have her check him over," says Diego. "And then we… wait, I guess."

Vanya nods. "Okay, that-- that sounds doable."

Allison places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Let's all go inside. It's starting to rain."

Diego looks up at the greying sky and gets hit in the face with a raindrop. He wrinkles his nose, wiping the water from his face. "Yeah. Let's go in."

They file back into the house, Five tucked against Luther's chest. The big guy is acting uncharacteristically soft, which is throwing Diego off.

 _"Now ya've thrown 'im off his rhythm,"_ he thinks. _"Ha."_

Although given that their presumed-dead brother just appeared out of nowhere in their backyard looking the same as the day he left, (sans the clothing), it's no surprise that he feels weird.

"Mom?" calls out Klaus. "We need your help! Like," he throws a glance at Five's unconscious body. "Right now!"

Mom's heels click against the hard floor as she walks towards them. When she sees Five, she freezes.

Although freeze is probably too strong a word. What happens is more like a stutter in her even steps, and a quick shake of her head.

"Oh dear," she tuts. "Here, let me take him."

She picks Five up into her arms with strength that should have been impossible for someone her size. Which makes sense because you know… android.

"To the infirmary, I presume?"

Allison nods. "Yeah. Thanks, Mom."

"Oh, no need for that dear. Caring for you children is my job, after all. That's what comes with being a mother."

"You're the best, Mom." Klaus slinks up to her and wraps his arms around her waist in a loose hug, careful not to jostle Five. He plants a kiss on her cheek. "On that note, I think Five may need medical attention like, _right now,_ and none of us know first aid."

"I do," offers Luther.

"You don't count," replies Klaus without missing a beat. Diego snickers into his hand.

"Of course, Klaus." Mom smiles. "Well, come along now! The infirmary is waiting."

+

Diego doesn’t stick around with the others after Mom takes Five away. He knows that the kid (the kid! Five is a kid! Why is he a kid?) will be safe in her hands, and there’s no need for him to be distracting her.

Sure, he _could_ have stayed with the others, but that would just mean fighting with them. He would probably make a jab at Luther, and Luther would get angry, and then Allison would try to diffuse the situation. Vanya would squeeze herself into a corner, timidly watching what’s going on. Klaus would just laugh and smile, yelling about one thing or another.

Diego just… doesn’t want to do that right now.

He goes to his old bedroom, for some reason. He doesn’t know why. Out of all places to go, he just has to choose the one with the least pleasant memories attached to it, huh?

Actually, that isn’t true. He could have gone to his training area. Looked at the tank and the targets. Thank god he’s smart enough to at least avoid doing that.

Diego falls into the bed, a cloud of dust rising around him. It’s not really his bed, anymore. It’s just a bed that he used to sleep in.

He arches his back, letting the small cracks travel down his spine. His head feels heavy. His eyes don’t feel focused. He closes them.

He doesn’t have anything to do, and it hurts. It all hurts. He can’t go fight anybody and he can’t stop any crime and it all feels like too much and too little.

He tries to concentrate on something. The way that his lungs expand as he inhales. Diego stretches out his legs. His muscles ache. Good.

Diego closes his eyes.

He remembers one time when he was young, before Five and Ben died, he was like this. Mom found him with his eyes screwed tight and his hands pressed over his ears, squeezing. He wasn’t breathing.

He is right now. He’s breathing, but much deeper than he normally would.

Eventually, Diego falls asleep.

+

_Darkness._

_A boy is floating. His eyes are closed. The boy’s arms are loose by his sides._

_The boy isn’t breathing._

_Suddenly, light. Bright white light shines onto the boy. It’s shining from above. High, high above the boy. The light is strong enough to reach him, even though he’s deep down below the surface._

_The boy’s eyes fling open. He starts flailing his limbs, trying to move. He can’t._

_He can’t breathe._

_He grabs at his throat. Pain. He gasps for breath, but water flows into his lungs. He’s underwater and he can’t breathe._

_Cold darkness._

_The boy opens his eyes again and coughs up water. He curls in on himself. He’s shivering. It’s cold and his skin is wet._

_A voice. “Two hours and twenty-three minutes. Shorter than last time, Number Two.”_

_“I’m sorry,” chokes out the boy. “I’m sorry.”_

_He doesn’t get a response._

+

“Wake up, slut!” a loud voice yells in Diego’s ear. He doesn’t reach for a knife. It’s clear enough who the idiot waking him up this way is.

“Shut the fuck up, Klaus.”

“No! Fuck that shit, Diego! We need you downstairs.”

“Downstairs?” Diego groans. “Why?”

“Eh,” Klaus shrugs. “They need your input on what to do with our bro coming back. You know, same old.”

“Right,” Diego says as he gets up. “Okay.”

“Cool, cool. Come on.”

As soon as the two get downstairs, Luther starts talking.

“You’re finally here. Okay, so I was thinking that once he wakes up we can just ask him-”

“Woah.” Surprisingly, it’s Klaus who says it. “Not to like, be a downer, but Luther, have you ever met a fucking child?”

“What?”

“Do you know what a kid is. Like. Do you know how to take care of a miniature human being?”

Luther scoffs. “Are you saying I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“Precisely!” Klaus snaps his fingers.

“And how would _you_ know how to take care of a child?”

Klaus laughs, ignoring the subtle jab. “I happen to be great with kids. Used to babysit for this lady, she was a sweetheart. And anyway, my point is there is no fucking way we’re just asking Five what the hell is up right off the bat.”

“Why not?”

Diego sighs. Luther’s such a fucking idiot. And somehow it still surprises him.

“Fucking trauma, Luther. Look, the only person here who is actually semi-responsible is Allison, and she lost custody! No offense, Allie.” She shrugs, although it’s clear she very much takes offense.

“And Vanya! Because she’s a violin teacher!”

Vanya frowns. “How do you know that?”

“Uh.” Klaus looks to the side. “That’s confidential!”

“That’s not how it works,” Diego interjects.

“A! Nope! Shush!”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” Vanya shrugs.

“See? No hard feelings! Anyway! Nobody fucking interrupt me or I’ll kill myself, please and thank you. I think,” he gestures to himself. “That we should acquire groceries and clothing.” He stops, lifting up his fingers and counting off two. “And when Five wakes up, we talk to him, and if he feels comfortable we ask what the fuck.”

“Just like that?” Diego raises an eyebrow. “Just, come up to Five and go ‘Hey yeah dude, what the _fuck_?’”

“I mean. I guess?”

“Wait a minute,” cuts in Allison, making the time out gesture with her hands. “This is sort of implying that we’re staying at the mansion.”

Klaus raises a finger, mouth open. He then freezes, closes his mouth and lowers his finger. “Ha. I guess you’re right.”

“We can’t just come and live here!”

“I mean! You could!”

Allison throws up her hands. “I have a job! And things to do, Klaus. I can’t just drop everything for this.”

“But it’s _Five_. Isn’t Five important? Besides, he’s a kid! He needs us.”

“I think Klaus is right,” gently cuts in Vanya. “We could all live here. Just for a little bit, so Five could adjust?”

Eyes turn to Luther. He shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter, I was going to stay here either way.”

“Diego?” prompts Klaus. “Your verdict?”

“I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” mutters Diego. Klaus glares at him, or tries to. “Not important. Staying or leaving?”

Diego groans. “Fine. I can stay. But only for a little bit, and I still have to go to my job and shit.”

Klaus claps his hands. “Great. Before Luther says any more dumb shit, full offense, I’m going to say what I think we should do. Again.”

When nobody argues, although it’s clear Luther is about to, Klaus continues, “So first, he’ll need actual clothes. No Luther, he can’t wear the fucking uniform. Second, food. Diego isn’t allowed to feed him because I’ve seen him crack a raw egg into his mouth.” Diego rolls his eyes. He likes eggs, sue him. Or better yet, fight him.

“Third… Uh, I actually didn’t think this far ahead, but there must be something. Everybody in agreement?”

“Seems fine,” says Diego.

Allison shrugs. “Not terrible.”

Vanya and Luther mumble their agreements. Klaus looks to the side, focusing on something Diego can’t see, before nodding. “Great. So we’re agreed. Now Luther and Allison should go buy clothing because I trust Allison’s fashion sense and knowledge on what kids can wear, and Vanya and Diego can go buy groceries. I can help Mom start making the house livable again.”

“What do you mean, ‘livable?’ It’s perfectly livable!” argues Luther. Klaus looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

“Luther. Have you seen the shit hung up on our walls? Don’t you think that could be, I don’t know, not fit for children’s eyes? Huh, big guy?”

Luther huffs angrily. “Fine.”

Suddenly, Diego has a realization. “Wait,” he says. “Weren’t we supposed to be having a funeral?”

“Oh my god,” Allison says. “You’re right. Shit.”

“Okay…” says Klaus. “Then… we get that shit over with, and then we all go do what I said! That good?”

“Sure, Klaus.” Diego sighs. “Fantastic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter I'm probably going to go on a semi-regular update schedule instead of just posting when I feel like it. Kudos to whoever caught my not-so-subtle John Mulaney reference.
> 
> Up Next: Ben has a one-sided conversation.


	5. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is always happy to provide unnecessary commentary. Noodle shopping happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: -and i'll have a consistent update schedule  
> also me: [disappears for two weeks]
> 
> Yeah, so that idea is dead. I'm just posting this as I go along. Some stuff happened, so it took me a while to get this chapter out.
> 
> There's a sex joke in this because... Klaus.

The funeral is shitty.

Which is not surprising, at all. Ben’s funeral, on the other hand, was way better. Klaus really managed to put the fun in funeral. But this funeral is just… boring. 

It also may have something to do with the fact that the deceased is Reginald Hargreeves, who pretty much everybody hates. Like, really. Fuck that noise. Reginald is dead, hallelujah.

Ben may be gloating a little bit. Although can it really be gloating if he didn’t actually have any success to brag about? After all, Ben ended up dead too. But who cares. Reginald is finally dead.

Another thing that may or may not be contributing to the shittiness factor is the fact that their presumed-dead brother literally showed up out of nowhere.

Yeah, that might be it.

It’s actually way less intense than Ben thought it would be. He expected Luther to try and defend Dad’s shittiness, and then Diego to fight him and for something to get broken.

Instead, they all stand in a circle around where Luther dumped the ashes in silence. Pogo says some bullshit about how master Reginald was a friend and he was an okay person and more bullshit.

So Ben says so. He walks right up to Pogo’s ear and yells, “Bull- _shit_!”

Klaus snorts into his hand. Ben throws a glance at him and smirks. 

“Dad was a fucking diiiiick!” he hollers towards the sky.

Klaus is clearly doing his best to keep a straight face. Ben ends up climbing onto his statue’s shoulders, because he _can,_ and shouting commentary for the remainder of the funeral. It’s very therapeutic, he feels better about his not-life already.

When they’re finally done, Ben poofs back down to the ground. Klaus stays outside, probably wanting to talk to Ben. The others go inside, saying that they’ll go and get food or clothes or whatever each has to do.

“So,” says Ben when the rest of their siblings all leave. “Any thoughts?”

“Oh what? The amazing funeral I just experienced?”

“Sure,” agrees Ben. “Let’s start with that.”

“Well, Benny-Penny, I think Pogo’s speech was truly spectacular. The impeccable incorporation of utter bullshit was, how do you say it? On point.”

“Very true,” agrees Ben. “And don’t call me that.”

Klaus ignores the last part. Which is kind of shitty of him, but oh well. All of them are kind of shitty.

“And Diego’s whole emo brooding thing. That’s just hilarious.

“Oh yeah, definitely. Do you think he wears that shit in the bathroom?”

“Like, in the shower?” Ben nods. “What kind of question is that? Of course he does.”

Ben laughs. Before Klaus has the time to go and avoid his brother and his problems, he goes for it. “You should try to get sober.”

Klaus groans. “You tell me that at least once a day, Ben.”

“Yeah, but this time I have more reasons than your own health and wellbeing.”

Klaus rolls his eyes. “Fine. Let’s hear them. I make no promises, though.”

“Five.”

“What?”

“The little child that appeared in our yard today. He’s thirteen, Klaus. It was bad enough when you were that age, but now if he sees you snorting cocaine I think it might be damaging.”

“Damaging.”

“Look,” Ben says. “He’s a traumatized asshole. I mean, we all are, but he just appeared out of nowhere after missing for more than a decade. That’s gotta have some baggage attached, right?”

Klaus wrinkles his nose, clearly wanting to argue but not finding any solid points.

“And also,” continues Ben. “not only will being sober be good for _you_ , but it’ll also be good for Five. He needs people to rely on, and he can’t rely on you if you’re fucked up on E.”

Klaus rubs his face. “I hate you.” Ben grins.

“That just means you know I’m right.”

“Yeah, and I hate you for it. Fine. You know what? Fine. I’ll try. For Five.”

“Thank you. Now go inside, you said you’d help Mom.”

Klaus sticks his middle finger up at him, but the aggression is lost due to him already walking inside. Ben trails after him but separates once Klaus reaches the room Mom is in.

“You coming?”

“No,” Ben says. “I’m gonna take a walk. Check on Five, maybe.”

“Sure. But also fuck you.”

“See you,” Ben retorts, waving. 

+

As promised, he goes to check on Five first. Nothing’s really changed. Five’s body is still loose with sleep, and he isn’t moving. Pogo is hovering around the room, looking at Five’s temperature and such every couple of minutes.

“Get better soon, asshole,” Ben says to his passed out brother. “Nobody except Allison and Vanya will admit it, but we all missed you.”

Because he doesn’t want to spend hours looking at his sleeping brother, he goes out to find Diego.

Sometimes it’s upsetting, how nobody except for Klaus and other ghosts can hear him. It kind of always is, but usually it’s easy to ignore. Ben has become pretty good at holding up onesided conversations though. Besides, even the illusion of talking to his siblings can be nice.

Also venting. Talking to somebody who can’t actually see or hear you, and doesn’t know you’re there is great for venting.

So here he is. Walking next to Diego as he silently picks out different canned soups.

“Pick the tomato one,” advises Ben. “Tomato soup is pretty good, I think.” He doesn’t really remember the taste of tomato soup, but there’s a vague memory of it being one of the better ones.

Diego of course ignores him and chooses the chicken soup, which is probably fine too.

“So how have you been? I don’t think I’ve talked to you in a while.”

Diego squints at the label of a can.

“You know, I was thinking. You came out at fifteen. Klaus came out. Well, _officially_ came out at seventeen. I came out never, because I died. Five left at thirteen. So…”

Diego moves to the next aisle. “Do teenagers like noodles?” he mumbles to himself. Ben sighs.

“Everybody likes noodles, Diego. My point is, he doesn’t know we’re not… you know.”

Diego frowns, before rolling his eyes and sweeping a couple of boxes of macaroni into his basket. 

“You’ve probably already thought of this. I mean, for me it’s obviously not a huge problem. I’m dead. But you and Klaus…”

Suddenly Ben’s eyes widen. “Diego, what if he doesn’t even know what gay means? Are you guys going to have to explain trans and gay to our little brother? Is he going to need a sex talk?”

Thankfully, Vanya chooses that moment to walk out from behind a row of cereal boxes and approach Diego.

“Did you get everything?”

Diego wrinkles his nose, like Vanya is spreading something gross around the floor. “Yeah.”

Vanya doesn’t meet his eyes. “Okay. Let’s, um. Let’s go pay.”

Diego nods once, short and clear that he has no intention of holding up a conversation. Ben takes that as his cue to leave. He doesn’t bother walking back to the Academy, instead just sucking in his stomach and appearing next to Klaus.

Ha, take that, Five. All it takes to replicate your powers is a little death.

“Ben!” Klaus says from his place on his bed. “Thank god you’re here, it was just getting boring.”

Ben raises an eyebrow. “Weren’t you supposed to be helping Mom?”

“I was! And I did. We finished.” Klaus raises the mess of yarn he’s holding. “Now I’m trying to knit, but I’m not good at it. Like, at all.”

Ben snorts. “Yeah, I can see.”

“Don’t be mean. Do you know how to knit? Maybe you can help me.”

Ben sits down, propping his chin on his hand. He looks down at Klaus with a smirk. “Klaus, where and how would I have learned to knit?”

Klaus huffs. “Stop floating, Benny.”l

“You can’t tell me what to do. I’ll float all I want.”

Klaus groans. Ben decides that this is probably not the best time to bring the issue up, but he’s going to do it anyway.

“So you know how Five left in 2002?”

“Yeah?” Klaus gives up on his attempt at knitting and tosses it aside, sitting up. “Why?”

“You know how Diego came out in 2005? And you came out in 2007?”

Klaus takes a deep breath. “That is a can of worms I would really prefer to deal with later, Ben.

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, I know. I know, I know. Ugh. He probably doesn’t even know… he probably doesn’t know _anything._ None of us did, at thirteen.”

Ben shrugs. It’s true.

“Whatever. We’ll deal with that later. You think I should find Diego?”

“He should be home with Vanya soon,” offers Ben.

“That’s great!” Klaus claps his hands together, the loud sound bouncing off the room’s walls. “That means he can’t run.”

“You should work on your phrasing,” says Ben. “That sounds like you’re going to murder him.”

“Mayhaps.”

Ben snorts. “Come on.”

Klaus hops off the bed and starts moving across the room. He grabs a patterned shirt and a skirt with paint splatters on it. “You’re wearing that?” says Ben. “Can’t you get a clean skirt?”

“It’s part of the charm,” Klaus explains as he shimmies into the skirt. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“I’m dead. There are a lot of things I wouldn’t get.” The words come out quieter than he intended. Klaus doesn’t seem to hear him.

Once Klaus is dressed in the new clothes, he strides out the door, motioning for Ben to follow him. The ghost relents, even though he could have gotten downstairs much quicker on his own. 

Klaus and Ben make it downstairs just as Diego and Vanya are opening the door.

“Hey Van,” Klaus finger-guns Vanya. “Mind if I steal Diego?”

“Um,” Vanya says, seeming surprised at being addressed. “I mean, yeah, I don’t mind. I have to-- I’m gonna go put these in the kitchen.” She lifts the bags she’s holding in her hands. “Diego, can I take…?”

Diego rolls his eyes. Still being a dick towards the shortest sibling, it seems. Not like Ben can do much about it anyway. 

Diego does hand Vanya the bags he’s carrying, though. “Can you even carry all that to the kitchen?” he snarks, which is his way of asking if she needs help. Ben snorts in amusement.

“Yeah.” Vanya sticks out her chin, just a bit, like she’s trying to prove herself. “Yeah, yeah, I can.” She sets down her bags, along with the two Diego just handed her. Ben wonders if she’s going to carry them to the kitchen one at a time, turning one trip into four, but Vanya proves him wrong.

She lifts the bags back up, adjusting her grip on the thin plastic straps, and takes the clearly heavy bags, starting to walk towards the kitchen.

“Wow,” says Klaus after she disappears behind a corner. “Who knew little Vanya was so buff?”

“She’s not buff,” cuts in Ben. “She’s just strong.”

“Stop, that’s weird.” Diego rolls his eyes. Ben sticks his tongue out at Klaus.

"See, Diego agrees with me."

Klaus discreetly flips Ben off. "Dee. You know how we're like." He makes a sort of flapping motion with his hand. “You know!”

Diego raises an eyebrow, leaning his weight to the side. “I don’t.”

“Not cis?”

Diego looks at Klaus with tired eyes. He seems like he’s done with everything, it being Klaus. “Why do you feel the need to talk about this in the hallway, where everybody can hear you?”

“Well why do you feel the need to stand in the hallway, where everybody can hear you as I talk to you about this?” counters Klaus. “Check and mate.”

Diego groans, grabbing Klaus’s hand and starting to drag him. “Alright. My room.”

“Oh ho ho, Diego, I see that I am truly irresistible, huh?” Klaus says with a smirk as he trips over his feet. “I guess not even my own siblings can resist this a--”

“Gross. Stop. Ew.” Diego cuts off Klaus before he can completely veer into 18+ territory. “Even if we _weren’t_ siblings, there is absolutely no way I would be into you.”

“He’s right,” Ben adds his unheard opinion. “You’re too scrawny.”

“Fuck off.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, not you, Dee.” Klaus smiles sweetly at their brother. His hand goes up, making a vague gesture in Ben’s direction. “Just a ghost who needs to learn to _shut the fuck up._ ” The last words are emphasized by a sharp glare at Ben.

Ben shrugs. “It’s true. And I’m saying it.”

Klaus doesn’t respond to that one.

“Whatever,” says Diego, opening his door and pushing Klaus into the room. He walks in behind him, closing the door right as Ben is about to walk in. It ends up shutting right in the middle of him, causing an unpleasant shiver to crawl up his spine.

Oh well. What can you do?

“So,” Klaus says as he throws himself onto Diego’s bed. “Let’s chat.”

“Please stop acting like you’re fifteen.”

“No. You’re not my mom. And as I was saying, let’s fucking chat, Diego.”

Diego lets out a long sigh. He sits down on the desk chair.“Fine. Start talking.”

Klaus doesn’t bother starting slow, he just jumps right into a flurry of words and hand gestures. Ben settles himself on the desk next to Diego to watch.

“So you’re trans, I’m non-binary, you’re bi, I’m pan, yeah? But Five probably knows literally nothing about queer _anything,_ so we’re inevitably going to have to talk to him about this shit, unless we want to just… confuse the hell out of him, I guess.”

“Okay. Sure. Are we both doing it together or just one of us?”

“Um.” Klaus frowns. “I don’t know, I was thinking more a crash course? You could cover gender and I could cover sexuality, then we could both go over the polite and respectful terms to use et cetera.”

“So far so good,” agrees Diego. “Are we just going over the basics or really going deep?”

“Don’t go deep right away,” advises Ben.

“We probably shouldn’t go too deep right away,” paraphrases Ben Klaus. “I think cover the LGBT, and then maybe talk a bit more about gender?”

“Great. Cool. That’s all you wanted to talk about, right?”

“Yep,” says Klaus, popping the ‘p’. “Wanna have some quality sibling bonding time?”

“Oh, joy,” Diego says, dripping sarcasm. Before he can expand, there’s a knock at the door.

Klaus immediately starts making overexaggerated sex noises. Ben giggles, for whatever fucking reason.

“Oh, fuck off, Klaus!” Diego says, loudly, as he gets up to open the door. “Oh. Vanya.”

Vanya’s face is red, no doubt from the noises she heard coming from behind Diego’s door. He sighs. “Spit it out. Nobody’s fucking.”

“Uh,” she squeaks before getting herself together. “Um. Mom said. Mom said to tell you, Five, he, he uh.”

“You go, Vanya,” whispers Klaus to himself.

“Woke up. Five woke up. You can go and talk to him. I’ll just-- Go and find Luther. And Allison.” With that, Vanya turns and disappears down a hallway.

Ben looks at Diego. He looks strangely uncomfortable.

“Say something,” he says to Klaus. “He’s freaking out.”

“Um.” Klaus awkwardly puts a hand on Diego’s shoulder, which he immediately shrugs off. “It’ll be fine, dude. You got this.”

“Whatever.” And then quieter, “Thanks.”

“No prob, Bob!” Klaus exclaims cheerily. “Now let’s go, we have a new brother to bond with!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on "Keeping Up With The Hargreeves": Five wakes up.
> 
> Would Klaus just straight up decide to stop being high because he suddenly has a little brother? Probably not, but let's pretend Ben is very persuasive. I'm also tired and really don't want to deal with the "being accurate and realistic" part of writing.
> 
> Me, trying to do the math to figure out what year Five left and when everybody came out according to my own writing: Parkour

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at [seven-misfits,](https://seven-misfits.tumblr.com/) come yell about the Hargreeves with me.
> 
> So as a side note: my relationship with gender is super weird, and I have no clue what I am. (Not cis, I'm pretty sure.) Right now I'm trying out they/them pronouns but idk if it'll stick or not. I did my best to be respectful and realistic with the gender stuff of this fic, but if something is rude or inaccurate please tell me so I can fix it. Thank you!
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment and tell me what you think, or drop an ask on tumblr. <3 Love y'all.
> 
> Edit as of August 16 (8/16/19): School has started, and that significantly decreased the amount of time I have to write. I also have hit a sort of wall with this fic. I don't plan on abandoning it, not at all, but with my new treatments and school and everything I won't be able to update for a while. This doesn't mean I'll disappear completely, but oneshots or short fics are much easier to write and that's kind of what's happening for me right now. So yeah. This is on a sort of mini hiatus, but I'll get back to it as soon as I can. Love you guys <3
> 
> Second edit as of September 3 (9/3/19): urrrggghh im so sorry i just,,, i can't find the motivation to work on this. i've tried, but i keep getting distracted, and this is my fault! i knew this was probably going to be too big for me to tackle, and i'm sorry. as of the nearest future, this fic is cancelled. i really hope i can find it in me to get back to this one day, but i just... i can't right now. i'm sorry. you guys have given me so much love and support with your wonderful kudos and comments, and i know this is probably disappointing to many, but i'm sorry.


End file.
